I Got Russia in the Mail
by BlackestNight BrightestDay
Summary: Hetalia: Axis Powers characters are real? Hah! Yeah right. Oh you, you laugh now. You wouldn't be laughing anymore if some freak company sent you a country in the mail!
1. Russian Mail

**I re-wrote this. Big thanks to _'Master of Wishes'_, for giving me a shove - thank you again. Now, on we go!**

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* * *

**"Damn idiots," a young asian lady, probably no more than twenty-three years old, scowled as she kicked off her worn heels and stomped into the home. "Why bother being an accountant when it's so obvious that math was never your forte?" She added huffily as she continued on deeper into her quaint, little home.

Slamming on the light switch, Emile Chang stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She glared at her reflection for a moment before heaving a sigh. She shut the door behind her while un-doing the clip that held her wavy, thick brown locks together in a messy bun. After stripping, Emile continued on with her shower.

Once she was dressed in her warm yellow fleece set pyjamas, Emile plopped down in front of her computer. There, she typed away furiously, hurrying to finish some unfinished business concerning her nine-to-five accounting job at the _'Apple Trees' _publishing company.

By the time all the numbers had been counted up and put together in a no-less-than-perfect manner, it was already nine o' clock at night. Getting up from her seat, Emile sauntered into the kitchen where she stuffed Monday's leftover curry and rice into the microwave. Thank goodness to whoever invented curry and the refrigerator. It was an easy fix on nights where there was no time to cook, since curry could last for a pretty long time and rice was no problem. It was probably all the rich food and late meals that was making the asian woman chubbier as the months went by.

While waiting for the microwave to give it's familiar sequence of beeps, the house phone started to ring. In an empty and small space, the noise was loud and made Emile's ears ring. She cursed, wondering who would call her at 'such an obscene hour'. To her and her traditional ways, nine o' clock was very late at night. Nevertheless, Emile grabbed the guilty phone, pressed the proper button and held it to her ear. "Hello?" She grumbled in her smooth, deeper-than-average voice.

"Emile!" Came a high-pitched shrill on the other line.

Emile winced a little and held the phone a little ways from her ear,"Good evening, niece, how are you?"

"I told you not to, like call me 'niece', why can't you call me by my name? Do you even remember my name?" The other girl sounded irritated.

"We've gone over this many times, it's only respectful to call you that! Yes, I do remember your name, how could I forget if you keep reminding me every time I see you? Now, at least try to show some respect for your elders, Alicia." Emile looked up as the microwave beeped. She moved towards it."Now, what's wrong?"

"I know that you really love those, you know, Japanese cartoons-"

"Anime. Please, don't be so loud-"

"Whatever, but, like, a friend of mine, right? Well, she's really into those stuff too, so she recommended me this one series and she said it was uber good and stuff. I couldn't watch it on Youtube, cuz' it's, like, rated for 18 year olds and above, so I watched it some where else." Emile listened to the voice as she removed her dinner from the microwave and dug a spoon into it.

"Alicia, you're only fourteen, you shouldn't be watching those things regardless," Emile huffed, picking up a spoonful of spicy goodness, "You should be more focused on your studies!" She took a bite.

"Oh, you're such a hypocrite, Emile-"

"_Jie Jie*_."

"It's not like you don't do it yourself! But anyway, so I was watching it and I watched it all in one day - it's so funny and stuff! You should totally watch. It's amazing and all the guys are so _hot _and it teaches you history and stuff!"

"You know I don't like history." Emile told her niece, propping an elbow up on the laminate counter.

"I know, I know! But it's so funny, it's so totally worth it! Please watch it, come on, please? Pretty please, please, please?"

Emile paused before sighing, nothing wrong with trying. "Alright, I'll watch it." She held the phone away from her ear some more.

The expected shriek rang from the phone, "That's great! It's called Hetalia:Axis Powers. H-E-T-A-L-I-A, Hetalia, you should know how to spell the rest - English is your favorite after all. Just keep watching though, the first few episodes are really rushed. Oh! I got to go, mum's demanding me do my homework and blah blah, you know, the usual stuff! Bye!" Alicia hung up.

Thus began Emile's obsession with Hetalia.

* * *

_Two Weeks After..._

Now, Emile had never been the one for buying any of the anime merchandises. She preferred to keep her hobby in the closet and out of her life. However, Hetalia would have the exception for she found accents to be utterly irresistible_. _Therefore, the moment word of an English dub for Hetalia complete with the accents reached her ears, Emile instantly ordered it. Of course, she did so with a rather large cringe. The price was not pretty and it was going to leave a dent in her savings.

"It'll be worth it. It'll be worth it! Come on, you've already come so far..." Emile bit her bottom lip, the hand icon was over the 'Confirm' sign, but her finger lingered over the magical button. "Oh, this is ridiculous, if I'm going to buy it and I'm going to make my money's worth so...I might as well quit the dramatics and get on with it..." She trailed off and clicked.

In roughly five to ten business days, the prized DVD's would arrive at her doorstep. The only thing to do now was to mark off each passing day on her calendar.

* * *

On day eight, Emile sat by the windows that looked down the long stretch of icy road and watched as a truck, burgundy in colour, chugged down the street. Tapping her foot and twiddling her thumbs with anxiety, she watched the truck stop by her driveway. The driver, clad in a black jacket and jeans, climbed out. Emile hadn't waited to watch him bring out the goods from the van. Instead, she had made a beeline for the door. Heart beating with excitement, Emile felt like a young girl on Christmas Day as she yanked at the door.

The door did not budge.

Cursing the cold, she gave another heave and the door opened with a loud crack. She shuddered as the cold easily pierced through her bathrobe. The week's weather had been nothing short of absolutely horrible, everything had frozen up, and within a day, the whole city was blanketed in a thick layer of snow.

The worker walked up to her porch, pushing a large box on one of those wheeling devices. "Delivery for...Emile Chang?" He asked.

Emile was confused. There was no way in hell that a simple DVD could be so god damn huge. "That's right," She replied, "But I didn't order...that thing."

"Well, it's addressed to you." Was his curt reply. "Look, you can take it now and than call the company or something."

Was this the type of service that's common among deliverymen? Emile shot the man a glare, "Alright, could you move it into the house, please?"

"Sure. Whatever you say lady."

After some short bickering here and there, the worker left the box in the middle of her living room and left. Emile scowled as snow started to melt and water collected into small puddles on her precious hard wood floors. Stooping down, she wiped them up with paper towels, before turning to the big problem at hand.

The box was pretty big, and from the looks of it, pretty heavy too. There was two holes punched into each side of the box, along with a small package strapped to it. Emile opted to retrieve the smaller package first.

Inside the smaller package was the thing she actually bought - the DVD. Also in the package was a small booklet. It was plain, and looked like the manual that came with IKEA furniture (to which she instantly had a picture of Sweden in her head). Written in bold font on the front page was "IVAN BRAGINSKI: User Guide and Manual", below it "LolliDictator Inc." was written in smaller font.

Upon obtaining such a ridiculously titled book, which was so _obviously _just an extra that came along with the DVD because there was _no way in hell _that anything else could possibly happen, Emile laughed out loud. "This is horrible," She snorted, thumbing through the book. "Who needs a manual for that? It's probably just a...life-size doll." She turned to the back of the book, but it was blank. Emile decided that there was no harm in reading the thing, so she sat down on the floor (with her legs crossed and back straight, of course) and started to read.

The content within the book was nothing less than eyebrow raising. "They make it sound like this is a robot." Emile said to herself. Living alone seemed to have that kind of effect on her. Since she was never the social type, talking to herself seemed to become a habit. "This could be fun," She countinued, peering up from the book and at the large box. "If it's real. A robot version of Russia. It's probably just going to be standing there and scaring people as they walk by - one of those Halloween installments." She paused, and took a deep breath, her curiosity was building. "Might as well...turn it on. Uh..." She looked down at the manual once more and frowned.

Why the hell did the author assume that everybody could read Russian?

Emile grumbled and decided to try another way, she looked up at the box and took a breath. "Belarus?" She said, feeling incredibly stupid. "Belarus. Belarus! Belarus!"

Nothing.

"God damn it, BROTHER!"Emile was starting to feel as though she had just made a big fool out of herself - it was a good thing she was alone.

Silence. Nothing but complete and beautiful silence.

But than no, slowly, very slowly, there came a whimper, a sob and a muffled cry.

Emile jumped up in fright and moved towards the box. Her curiosity was at its peak, this doll was impressive! Technology now-a-days. Voice activated dolls, thrilling, really! Her fingers fumbled with the steel latch, a broad grin was plastered on her face. She finally managed to crack open the top and flipped the lid.

Brown met violet eyes, and they were very, very, very real.

"You're not Natalya!" The doll - person - robot - thing cried in a very real, heavily accented voice.

To which, Emile let out a choked screech and leaped back, pressing her back against the wall. "You...You're...!" She stared, wide-eyed at the pale-headed, absolutely enormous man in front of her.

The...thing stood up and a number of items fell from his lap. "I'm so glad you're not my little sister!"

"R-Ru...Russia! Fff...What the hell are you doing here?" That was probably a very stupid question, but what else could she say? Here, standing before her, was the _creepiest god damn country in the series!_

Ivan - Russia - seemed amused. He looked around, "A very pretty house. It will be one with Mother Russia, da?"

Emile was on the verge of a panic attack. They weren't suppose to exist. Ivan was obviously not a doll, and even she knew that technology had not advanced far enough for a self-thinking robot. "Get back in the box, now, please, right now." She said, pointing to the box with one hand while she dug into her pocket for her cellphone in the other. "In! Turn off. Off, whatever! What the hell!" She fumbled with the cellphone, trying to call the Customer's Service number on the manual.

Of course, she would of succeeded, if Ivan hadn't started to do his trademark "I'm-going-to-murder-you-in-your-sleep" warning laugh...grumble thing.

"H'okay, h'okay, calm down, you. Calm down." Emile found herself saying, with a slight tremor in her tone.

Instantly, the smile returned to his face, "Maybe you should try that first, da?"

Lost of words, Emile decided on the whim that she would let him stay the night. Just one night, because the very moment she was alone in her room, she was going to call Customer's Service and they'll realized their mistake.

"Basement." Emile exclaimed, struggling to maintain her cool. "There's a room, you can use - in the basement."

Ivan did not seem pleased, "Why the basement? Are you implying something?"

Emile swallowed thickly, "What? _Of course not! _I just thought that you might like the...bright yellow room there! Ahahaha..."

"Oh, yellow is such a cheerful and sunny colour, da?" Ivan grinned as he gathered up his belongings (vodka, another uniform and a faucet pipe).

"Yes, yes, it is." Emile agreed with a underlying tone of terror in her voice. Okay, so she would be sleeping on the second floor, that left only one floor to separate them. Tonight would be a bad night. "This way, this way...Oh, please take off your shoes too."

"Why?"

"You don't want to dirty the, uh, yellow-ish carpet too, right? It's also an Asian culture."

"Asian? Like Yao~"

"Sure..." Emile mumbled.

Oh yeah. That night, she would have to sleep with one - if not both - eyes wide open. Thank god it was a weekend the next morning.


	2. Russia and the Grocery Store

**Russia and Grocery Shopping**

"Stop it," Emile hissed as she inserted a coin into the little device latched on top of the carts. It had been nearly a week since the damn country, Russia, arrived at her doorstep. It had also been nearly a week since she found out that the stupid company was test-running their product and required that a selected few take care of their stuff. If it weren't for the monthly income of a few thousand dollars sent from the company for 'product maintainence', she would of flat-out refused to support such an expensive person. Emile yanked the cart out and wheeled it past the automatic doors and into the grocery store. "I said _stop it._" She turned to glare at the tall, Russian man - who was currently staring at the other customers with that stupid grin on his face.

"Why? It's so much fun da..." He asked, purple eyes never moving to focus on her as he spoke.

"You're going to get us kicked out _again,_" Emile argued, stopping to pick up a loaf of soft bread. "Remember how you creeped out all the employees at Safeway? We got a permanent ban, thank you very much."

"But they were so inefficient, da? If they were working with me, they wouldn't be like that. Being one with Mother Russia is good, da." Russia - Ivan told her as he followed Emile through the bakery section.

Sometimes, Ivan brought up a good point, and it always made Emile feel like a twisted bastard to agree with him. "Yes, well..." Her annoyance faltered a bit, "Regardless, you should not stare at people like that! They'd think you're some creep or stalker...or something."

"Funny because I often have people tell me I am a...creep, da."

"Oh shut up. If you get us kicked out of more and more stores, there wouldn't be anymore stores for us to buy food from." Emile scolded, turning into the cereal aisle, where she picked up a box of Raisin Bran and (Ivan's favorite) Froot Loops. She knew that Ivan could really care less if they couldn't buy any food, since he would manage to find food _somewhere_. So, for some real impact, she added with a nonchalant tone, "And because of that, I guess we won't be able to get any vodka either."

A small gasp, "You are lying."

A small smile played on Emile's lips, "Nope." She answered, popping her 'P'. She grabbed a few boxes of yogurt energy bars and turned into the next aisle.

There a pause, followed by a string of Russian curses and a series of quiet, 'kolkolkol's.

"So, you will stop staring at people?" Emile asked, politely and innocently.

"I have no other choice, da?" Ivan muttered, the childish cheeriness not as blatant as before. "You will cut off my vodka supply, otherwise."

"I warned you." Emile shrugged, a little skip in her gait. It was rare for her to win in an argument against the Russian. "I told you."

That was pretty much the end of their conversation. It didn't take a very long time for their cart to fill up with food and, mostly, vodka. They lined up and Emile paid for the items. The cashier was restless and fidgety, he often cast anxious glances at the dark-faced Russian. He packed their groceries and inhumane amounts of alcohol into plastic bags hastily and bid them a relieved farewell.

On their way out, the pair passed by the flower section of the grocery shop. Ivan paused, causing Emile to stop as well.

"What?" She said, somewhat irritated. She just wanted to go home.

"Sunflowers."

"Ivan, it's not the season, they don't -"

"_Sunflowers, _girl, I see them." Ivan lifted his arm and a gloved hand pointed to one corner of the chilled aisle. There was, indeed, sunflowers stashed in the miserable little corner. Even the sunflowers looked miserable. They were old, dull-in colour and wilting.

"But their wilting, Ivan."

"I don't care. We did not get kicked out from here, so I should get a prize, da?"

Damn it. "Okay. Fine. Go get some."

They stood there, in the middle of nowhere, for what felt like a long while. Emile glared up at Ivan, "_Okay, I'll get it."_

So she did, she paid for it at the same checkout as before. This time though, the cashier was casting _her _anxious glances. Once finished, Emile shoved the single dying sunflower into Ivan's chest. "Take it."

Ivan smiled and said nothing. They shuffled out into the blustery wind and to Emile's car. Ivan climbed in first, leaving Emile to pack up the groceries and put away the cart. For the rest of the day, the only 'thanks' she got from Ivan was a smile, and a chilling:

"I hate you."

* * *

**I'm sorry if it's un-entertaining, but this was the style I figured I would stick with. :) If you have any normal day-to-day event you want to put our duo through, please say so in the review. Thank you! **


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